


The night cat in dreams

by SaltIce



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Constantine (2005), DCU (Comics), Justice League - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Asphyxiation, Dream Sex, Dubious Consent, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Porn, Intersex Bruce Wayne, Intersex Thomas Wayne, Magic, Mpreg, Multi, Orgasm Control, Original Character(s), Partial Mind Control, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pretending to be fragile, Reader-Insert, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Pollen, Sex Toys, Smut, Spanking, Strap-Ons, Teasing, Tentacles, Top!Reader, Torture, Transfiguration, Vaginal Fingering, Vibrators, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:29:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24307444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaltIce/pseuds/SaltIce
Summary: This is *Your Game*.You level up by fucking superheroes.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne/Reader, Clark Kent/Reader, Dick Grayson/Reader, Hal Jordan/Reader, John Constantine/Reader, Thomas Wayne Jr. | Owlman/Reader
Kudos: 59





	1. Lead-in

**Author's Note:**

> For the convenience of my non-Chinese readers, I'm trying to translate my fiction 《梦里什么都有》（https://archiveofourown.org/works/24232666）from Chinese to English.
> 
> I made some modifications like changing the third-person perspective to the reader perspective
> 
> There will be seven chapters. I'm still working on it.
> 
> As I’m not a native speaker, please don’t mind if there are any grammar or spelling mistakes.

1

\- It's game time.

\- Who's talking to me?

\- I am you, the inside you. Technically, it's not talking, it's... * Mind Transfer * .

\- Oh, me on the inside? I'm a nesting doll?

\- This is * Your game *. You can be * Anything * .

\- Wow. Can I be a color, an element, an emotion?

\- Either. But you can't do it yet.

\- Isn't this... * My Game? * ?

\- The fun of the game is * Limitation * .

\- That's a good point. So how do I get stronger, or level up?

\- There are many * Superheroes * in the world, and you can cause collect their mood swings.

\- By attacking, injuring, conquering?

\- Through sex.

\- ... Dude, is this an R18 game?

\- "Everything in the world is about Sex... except Sex. Sex is about power. " So gain your power through Sex.

To tap into his deepest fears and desires, to tease him, to break him, to comfort him, to fill him.

\- Ah, that turns me on. You're really me.

\- Enjoy it.  
The world is your oyster.


	2. You/John Constantine

The exorcist, private investigator, swindler-John Constantine were hurrying down the street at night, with a cigarette between fingers.  
He was just attacked by the devil on the road.  
How could the devil come to the world of Man? Is there a loophole between the partition of Hell and Earth? If so, having offended numerous devils, he had been on the edge of life.  
For the sake of his safety, Constantine was anxious to go to hell to end the trouble.

“Meow~”  
The roadside crouched a black cat, had a pair of jade-like eyes, very clean, like a house cat running out.  
Constantine stopped and thought, cats are great vehicles for magic, especially black cats.  
Without a thought to whether the cat had an owner, Constantine took this exceptionally well-behaved black cat away without any psychological burden.

Back in the room, Constantine took off his trench coat and sat in the tub, where the water was running. He lifted the cat and looked at it.  
The cat's eyes were like mysterious whirlpools of green, which sucks his consciousness before he felt something wrong.

"Would you trade your soul for Astra Logue's? "  
A seductive voice whispered in his ear.  
Astra... Astra..  
The girl.  
The girl he tried to save, whose soul was taken by the devil after he screwed things up.  
That's the beginning of everything.  
The beginning of self-abandonment.  
The beginning of futile efforts.  
The beginning of the fall of life.

[Say "Yes", and it will all be over.]  
All the regrets. All the pain. All the self-loathing...  
The idea was in his head, working tirelessly to persuade him.  
Constantine didn't respond but gave a feeble middle finger and a sardonic grin.  
Why He has to live with it? Why is he the one to make choices?  
He was never the man to wield the power of life and death.  
John Constantine.  
He knows God, but he doesn't trust him.  
Man is but the figurehead of fate.  
He, Does, Not, Play.

Constantine opened his eyes to the crackling of sparks and saw that all he had left was a black tie around his neck.  
Two nails through the palms of his hands, and nailed him to a black cross. He had to stand on tiptoe to brace himself or the nails will cut his palm.  
He looked around, the flames of hell burning around him.  
Is this... a trial?  
Constantine squinted thoughtfully and calmly asked the air, "I've offended a lot of people. It's hard for me to recall if you don't state your name. "  
"What do you want, my soul?" He said in a conciliatory tone.  
He didn't believe he was going to die here. After all, a rotten life lasts forever.

A chuckle came from behind him.  
A quill appeared out of thin air, and it automatically wrote a charm on Constantine's chest. In the instant it was finished, the golden handwriting burned out like a flame, and the heat spread to the whole body, a sense of emptiness enveloped him from within.  
"Hiss... " Constantine bit the tip of his tongue, trying to stay awake.  
"If you are to fuck me, at least let me see your face... oh because you're ugly? " He tried to provoke the invisible manipulator, bad Laugh: "Don't worry, you don't know how many kinks I have... Ah! "

You yanked his tie to the backward, forcing Constantine to lift his head and expose his chest as if to welcome the two hot drops of liquid that had landed on his nipples.  
He trembled from the heat, but could not look down to tell if it was the blood of some strange beast.  
From where he could not see, the scarlet wax covered his nipples, making him like a gift sealed with fire paint.  
Your hands brushed against Constantine's protruding ribs, held his lean waist in place, and thrusting slowly and firmly into his tight passage, which was sticky and slippery with the help of the aphrodisiac charm.  
You kissed him affectionately on the neck and shoulders left purple hickeys and red teeth marks on his pale skin.  
Constantine gasped and gasped with pain and excitement.  
His bloodshot nipples were burning and cramping around like they'd been whipped.

You are shorter than him, so you had to float to fuck him. You groaned in passion and lifted his whole body, his toes barely holding themselves to the ground. Blood oozed from the palms of his hands, mixed with the salty sweat. The sensation of pain bombarded his brain along nerve endings at all times.  
But his penis, which had no one to comfort with, rose high, oozing a viscous fluid, desperately seeking relief.  
"Ha... " he enthralled.  
"You like pain, don't you?" You asked flirtily.  
Yeah, chasing death every day, he's used to being fucked by life.  
You bit his red lips and fucked him harder.

As Constantine neared orgasm, his eyes rolled up, his body a libidinous pink, and his cunny fluttered.  
You messed with his rhythm, pounding away at him just past his peak.  
His tie tightened a few more times, Constantine's throat constricted, he coughed and his vision blurred.  
You reached out, lighted a cigarette, took a deep breath and infused the smoke down his throat.  
The familiar smell of cigarette smoke tickled his addiction, and a clamor of discontent ran through the back of his mind.  
So you fed him more, more smoke than he could breathe.  
Constantine felt pushed to the pinnacle of pleasure and to the edge of death. His soul detached from his body, every nerve throbbing profusely.  
You were buried deep within him, your bodily fluids fused, your magical powers evoking a spiritual resonance.  
It's so hot.  
Why does it feel like drowning when there's fire all around.  
There was a white light shining in front of Constantine's eyes.  
He lost his mind.

You knelt in the bathtub, looking down at Constantine.  
The scheming wizard was leaning helplessly against the Bathtub Wall, his thin muscles barely visible under his soggy white shirt, his wet hair clinging to his cheek, no longer his usual self-assured look.  
You gently brushed the hair from his eyes. His brows were furrowed, his eyes were closed, his eyes darting uneasily under his eyelids, gulping like a floundering fish. The feverish flush on his face added a touch of shyness and vulnerability to the impudent wretch.

Constantine struggled out of the water and grasped the air.  
The water was completely vaporized, and the cat ran off somewhere.  
Constantine stumbles climbs out of the bath. He clutches the faint burn on his lower back, walks to the mirror, and lifts off his clothes.  
On the pale flesh, there is an ostentatious signature:  
[Your Name].

You got [Magic].


End file.
